


the only god i'll ever need

by madfatty



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-05 23:10:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4198599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madfatty/pseuds/madfatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief moment in time and blue light. Rae/Finn</p>
            </blockquote>





	the only god i'll ever need

It’s early days. This second go at being together is still new and while they have talked and things are good, there are some things that they need to work on. Things they need to give themselves time for. She still prefers the lights off, doesn’t reach to touch him first. She waits to be invited and when he does she swings between over-zealousness and hesitance, but he’s learning that it’s not because she doesn’t feel about him the same way he feels about her.

 

He wakes with a feeling of safety. Warm and enclosed, cocooned. His room is awash in the dim glow from the stereo, the soothing hypnotic crackle of the needle still riding the groove of the last album they listened to before they fell asleep. This is the world as he would have it; the two of them alone, wrapped up in one another, bathed in blue light.

 

He lives for the nights when they can stay together. It’s only when she sleeps that she’s able to give herself permission to seek him out, her body flouting the long list of rules she has about touching and wanting; where and for how long and who can see.

 

So right now, he revels in the press of her against him. Her t-shirt has ridden up in her restless pursuit of sleep and the swell of her breasts and the soft roundness of her belly shifting slightly against his bare flesh are the sweetest dream; the curve of her thigh firm against the back of his own, her smooth calf thrown possessively over his, holding him in place, a welcome restraint. He only realises she’s awake when her lips trail across his shoulders, the back of his neck; her soft, warm tongue dancing over his skin and the tease of her breath as she imbibes the taste of him.

 

He thrills at the feather-light pull of her fingers, mapping the definition of his bicep, following the line of his forearm and twining in his briefly as she traces the callouses on the pads of his fingers. Her damp cheek presses against his back as she tries to regulate her breathing. He wants to turn to her then, to comfort her, but he doesn’t want to frighten or embarrass her. Or stop her. It may be selfish, but if she can only allow herself this freedom because she thinks he’s still asleep then maybe it’s better for them both to let her believe it. 

 

His heart races as her fingers ghost a path from his hand to the place where it’s resting on his thigh. She chases the skin of him down as far as she can reach without having to move and traces the contours of his leg. The flat of her palm runs back up and up along the front of his thigh hovering; deciding. His senses heighten as he anticipates the path her touch will take.

 

For the first time ever, he hopes she stops before he won’t be able to. It doesn’t quell the disappointment when her hand bypasses his cock and settles on his stomach. He has no control over the fluttering of his muscles as her caress rises and he finds himself holding his breath lest she notice that he’s awake too. Her hand alights upon his chest; just over his heart and she inhales shakily. He shivers slightly at the lingering press of her lips to the nape of his neck.

 

With her next exhalation, he is aware of the tension leaving her body as she finally allows herself to relax into him. Relief and love and a longed for feeling of belonging overwhelm him. He burns to gather her up, succumb to the constant temptation to lose himself inside her and anchor her to him forever; to consume her with the contents of his full and heavy heart. Instead he stretches languorously, leaning back and settles closer to her, releasing a deep sigh of his own.

 

She calls him beautiful and though it’s not a word he’s ever thought applied to boys before he’s surprised to realise it’s how she makes him feel when she looks at him. He wants to learn how to do that; how to look at her and have her feel just how beautiful she is to him.


End file.
